Clairsentience
by EmeraldWishes
Summary: A psychic with an ability slowly tearing her apart. A man whose job is to prove psychics are frauds. Takes place after the movie Red Lights ****Prior knowledge of the movie is needed to understand.****
1. Shattered Mirrors

A scream ripped through the air a moment before all the windows in a two story home blew out with a crash and tinkling of glass.

Just as suddenly as the scream had come, the rain that had been pouring all day and part of the night stopped. Silence. Nothing, not even a cricket could be heard, but that wasn't true for all.

Mary Chase, 25 years old, personally assigned recluse and hermit, heard things. She felt them. She felt the fear, the pain, the confusion, and anger from 20 miles away in the city. She knew exactly where it was coming from as well; the University where the critically acclaimed psychic Simon Silver was due to preform.

Mary had successfully managed to block out the thoughts and feelings of the city prior to the incident, up until a strong force ripped her barriers away, leaving her open and susceptible to an attack. She was mad, not just because she'd managed to put up a barrier for the first time in years, but also because she could feel the anger of others, it seeped into her, and she absorbed it.

She felt pain as well, such a great pain, but also triumph. Triumph from an unidentifiable source; an unidentifiable person.

Mary shivered as the cool night air blew in from outdoors, bringing with it more feelings and thoughts.

 _A man, Simon Silver, floating above the ground._

 _Another man in pain, getting beat up in a bathroom._

 _The same man that got beat up now in the auditorium where Silver was, limping and blood soaked in his shirt._

 _Silver demanding the man to stop._

 _And then..._

Mary screamed again, the sheer number of thoughts, memories, and feelings overwhelming her. She curled up into a ball and hugged her knees whispering make it stop. But it didn't, it never stopped. It was her gift, her curse, and she could barely think as to why she had them in the first place.

She tired constructing a wall around her mind to block it out, but each time she did, it got torn down by the same persisting energy. It was new to her, the energy, but it was gradually retreating until it disappeared within the swirls and whorls of the rest of the cities thoughts and feelings.

Anger.

 _Simon Silver demanding how the man had "done it"._

Fear.

 _The audience frozen by the events that had just taken place._

Confusion.

 _People trying to comprehend just what had happened._

And something else, something seemingly foreign; acceptance.

 _"You can't deny yourself forever."_

But what the acceptance was about, Mary did not know. It came from the man who'd confronted Silver, the one that had disappeared.

For the first time, Mary tired to reach out and find that energy, but to no avail, it was hopeless. They were gone. Mary could've spent the rest of the night looking, only to gain a headache.

She'd felt a connection to that energy, something she'd never felt before. Something that let her to seek it out; to find help. Anything to help her deal with her curse.

"Help me," she whispered hoarsely. "Help me."

She concentrated on that energy she couldn't find. Even the memory of it was slipping, a fading beacon in the dark.

 _Help me. Help me. HELP ME._

Twenty miles away in the hospital, physicist and self proclaimed psychic debunker Dr. Thomas Buckley clutched his head in pain. The only thing he could make out through the haze where two words:

"Help Me."


	2. Trails of Energy

Tom couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried. After tossing and turning for a good two hours, he finally gave up. What was the use? He just had too much on his mind, even after the event with Silver that had happened not even 24 hours ago. Seeing the look on Silvers face... that was priceless, all things considered. He just hoped it looked like part of the show, in stead of what it really was. Imagine that, if it got out the guy that spent his whole life proving psychics were frauds, only for himself to be one.

He'd managed to get out of there though, ran into Sally outside of the University. He knew she cared about him, and it was nice to have someone like that, but something still felt like it was missing. The revelation that Silver really wasn't a psychic hit him hard, more so than the other ones he'd debunked. He'd been certain he was the only one up until when he was in the hospital to finally let Matheson's son go. It was the least he could do for his mentor, they would be together now, in whatever happened after life.

It was only after after Sally had made him see the doctor himself for his injures that something really happened. It'd been sudden and quite painful. Almost exactly like what had happened when he'd first was investigating Silver. Luckily no windows blew out, but he was certain Sally and the doctor thought something was horribly wrong.

The doctor eventually deduced that it was just a migraine or head trauma caused by the attack he'd suffered. Which to any normal person, it would've made sense. Getting punched in the face repeatedly whilst your head is being hit against the floor at the same time is bound to cause some sort of damage. The doctor was quite surprised that Tom had even managed to stand up, let alone walk and face Silver like he did.

The headache, or whatever it was, wasn't because of a migraine, even though it might've caused one later, no, it was something else. Amid the static and pain, he could very clearly hear someone asking for help, which was something he'd never experienced before. Sure, he'd had people ask for help before, but not in that way. Not mentally.

It was possible that it was just someone's thoughts that he'd picked up very strongly, but it felt more personal than just a random occurrence. His intuition was telling him that whoever had asked for help was seeking him out specifically.

Rolling over, Tom stared at Sally beside him. She didn't know about his secret, and he doubted she'd believe him if he told her. The only way he could really prove to her he was a psychic was to give an example of it, but what if she got frightened and left him? He couldn't deal with that, not right now, not ever. If he didn't tell her though...

Tom groaned and turned to stare up at the ceiling. _Who are you?_ he asked silently. _What do you want?_

No response.

And then...

It was faint, barely enough to pick up on, but he felt it and grabbed on to it, determined not to let it go. A small, weak energy force from somewhere. It was a trendil, as fine as spiders silk, but it was there. Mentally Tom tugged on it, only for it to shatter into pieces.

 _No!_

Tom let out a frustrated breath and a crash issued from the other side of the room.

Damn it.

Sally stirred and Tom prayed that she wouldn't wake up. It would be hard to explain how a whole shelf of books somehow found their way off the shelf and onto the floor, five feet away. He really needed to get this under control. Now that he accepted it though, it should be theoretically possible.

Who was he kidding though? Control fell within the confines of logic and physics. Psychometry was outside the bounds of logic and didn't obey the laws of physics. It was something wholly different. Fat chance of help his degree in Physics did with this.

Carefully, he began searching for it again, this time closing his eyes. Searching... Searching...

He almost missed it the second time, but when he got it, he didn't let it go. He didn't tug on it, he did do anything but hold it in his mind, memorizing it, feeling it.

An idea popped in his head, and he tried it very carefully so he wouldn't lose his connection.

 _Hello?_


	3. Psychics and Ghosts

When Mary woke up, split second she didn't know where she was. Then it all came back to her. Last night, the overwhelming rush if emotions which translated into thoughts. So much information, too much. She'd passed out then and there on the floor, surrounded by the disaster she had created.

What had woken her up though? Groaning, she unfurled herself from the fetal position, but made no move to get up. Something had definitely woken her up, but she was alone, and no one was around in this dismissal place.

A hazy dream surfaced in her mind, _a man is in a renovated warehouse in the city, he's with another woman but can't seem to sleep. A crash issues from the other side of the room, the causes unknown, and then the man looks right at her, as if he can clearly see her. He opens his mouth and asks, "Hello?"_

The banging open of a door startles Mary, and she loses the memory—or dream, whatever it was—just as quickly as it had come.

"Mary?" a voice asks. It's her sister, Allie. "Oh my god, Mary!"

Mary raises her head to see her sister rush into the room, dropping her purse on the table before running over to where she lay on the floor.

"What the hell happened to you? Why are all the windows blown out? I came by to see how you were doing because we haven't seen each other in a long time, but—oh my god."

 _An overwhelming surge of concern and fear crashes over Mary, and from that she can discern her younger sister's thoughts._

 _'Oh my god, she finally went crazy from being by herself for 5 years straight. I knew I should've convinced her to come live with me in the city.'_

"Allie," Mary croaked, voice raw, "please stop, you're giving me a headache."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Allie said, dropping her voice down to a whisper, "is this better?"

It wasn't. Allie could've not been talking at all,and Mary could still get a headache from her talking, more specifically, her inner thoughts and dialogue.

"Seriously Mary," Allie said, "what happened? All the windows in the house are shattered. Did you take a baseball bat to them?"

"I don't have a baseball bat," Mary said, unsuccessfully trying to block the thoughts out of her mind.

"More over," Allie gave Mary and the room a once over, "don't you find it odd there's a perfectly round patch of ground that's clear of all debris?"

 _'I knew it, my sister's crazy. No, not crazy, different. She needs help though.'_

Mary became angry at her sister for what she thought. She wasn't crazy, at least she hoped she wasn't, no it was something else. A knowing she wasn't crazy, but something very close to it. Losing touch with reality? No, that was going crazy, and she was most certainly not.

Allie's purse fell to the floor, contents scattering everywhere. The surprised brunette, whipped her head around at the sound, "What the heck..."

 _'Ok... Now I'm going crazy.'_

 _The confusion is stronger now._

 _'My purse is on the floor, when I had set it on the table. Obviously it didn't move on it's own...'_

"Did you just...?"

"Just what?" Mary asked, "Move your purse? Please, I would have to be _psychic_ to do that." She sits up and rolls her eyes. At least when she was in a room with someone else, everything else got filtered out. On the other hand, that persons thoughts and feeling were the only things she felt.

 _'So she didn't move my purse, but it moved.' Irritation flooded through. 'What they heck is going on here? I come in to find the windows blown out, my sister's unharmed, and on top of that, my pride moved without anyone touching it. Didn't I hear something about this house being built on top of an old battle field?'_

Mary had to suppress an eye roll at that. Great, Allie was going to go off on her "Ghosts are real" tangent.

She held up a hand before Allie had even opened her mouth, "Not the ghosts again, please."

"Come on!" Allie protested. "Obviously some sort of supernatural phenomenon is going on here! Things just don't happen on their own like this!"

"So you think the windows breaking and your purse moving is because of ghosts?" Mary sat cross legged on the floor. "I thought we already established I was the one who broke the windows."

Wrong thing to say.

 _'My sister's possessed by a ghost!'_

Mary groaned and Allie gave her a puzzled look, "Did I say something?"

"No," Mary said, shaking her head, "I just remembered I had to do something."

"Such as?"

"Go upstairs to my room and stay in there until you don't think I'm possessed by a ghost anymore," Mary said.

"I didn't say anything—"

"It was obvious you were going to," Mary said, as her headache was returning tenfold.

She got up and carefully picked her way through the shattered glass and towards the stairs.

"So your just going to leave this mess here?" Allie demanded.

"There's nothing I can do about it right now," Mary said over her shoulder. "Might as well leave it."

"Fine!" Allie said, "I'll just call someone to have this cleaned up."

 _'I'm calling those damn psychic investigators.'_

Mary really did roll her eyes then, before clenching her teeth against the pain. At least in her room she'd have some peace and quiet.


	4. A Most Peculiar Phone Call

Tom was in the middle of teaching a class when his phone rang. Normally he would've had it turned off, but had a situation been dire enough, it would've gone off anyway. Ignoring it for the time being, Tom went back to lecturing about Newtons Laws. A minute later, the phone rang again and Tom let out a sigh.

Walking over he inspected his phone on the desk only to realize it wasn't his phone at all that was ringing, but rather the department's phone. Well, really it was his and Matheson's department, not the physics one. Rubbing his face he glanced at his students who were giving him curious looks. A call on that line could only mean one thing.

"Class dismissed," Tom said, "I want an essay on what we talked about on Friday."

The class grumbled as the packed up and filed out of the room. Tom watched them leave before leaning against the desk and staring at the phone. It was the first call he'd gotten since everything had happened, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to pick it up. The phone kept on ringing, and Tom kept on starting.

Letting out a sigh, Tom eventually answered, "Hello?"

"Hi!" A woman's voice said. "Is this Dr. Buckley?"

"Speaking." Tom wasn't sure what caused him to pick up this call, intuition told him it would lead to something interesting, and he always trusted his instinct.

"Oh, thank god!" the woman said. "I don't normally call twice cause it's rude, but it's important. Are you still doing that psychic investigating?"

"Not really," Tom said, "but I can see what I can do. What's your name?"

"Allie Baldwin," the woman said, "I'm calling in regards to my sister, Mary Chase."

"What's the issue?" Tom asked, sitting down in a chair and staring out the window.

"Well," Mrs. Baldwin said nervously. "My sister is a hermit, first of all. Hate's being around people and won't leave the house. I came in today to check on her and found all the windows blown out."

"You said that your sister was a self proclaimed hermit," Tom said in a bored voice, "Could it be that she had a psychotic break? Seems like you're looking for a psychologist, not a physisit."

"That's what I thought at first too," Mrs. Baldwin said. "But then..."

"Then?" Tom prompted.

"Well," Mrs. Baldwin said, "this might sound crazy, but when I found her she was completely unharmed from the windows. No cuts from the glass or anything."

"It's possible she did it on her own and was careful about it," Tom said.

"I asked her if she used a baseball bat," Mrs. Baldwin said. "She said no. My sister is many things, but she doesn't lie. Not about important things."

'Everyone lies no matter what,' Tom thought.

"So you think because of this, there was a psychic occurrence?"

"Are you doubting my story?"

"Not at all," Tom said, "I just want to get all the facts straight."

"Oh, well kind of, yes."

"What do you mean, kind of?" Tom was feeling like this was a huge waste of his time.

"Well," Mrs. Baldwin said, "Like I said, she was completely unharmed, and was sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a perfect ring of clear ground around her. And then when I tried to question her, she got mad and my purse moved without anyone touching it."

Tom stiffened at her words. That sounded all too familiar to what he'd gone though. His mind wandered back to the night before when he'd gotten that odd cry for help. It couldn't have been a coincidence, could it have?

"Dr. Buckley?" Mrs. Baldwin asked, "Are you still there?"

"Yes," Tom said, "sorry, just thinking. Is there anything else you'd like to mention?"

"I think my sister is possessed by a ghost honestly," Mrs. Baldwin said, and Tom rolled his eyes. Not this type of thing again.

"Then why not consult an exorcist?"

"I don't like them," Mrs. Baldwin said, "ever since I watched the movie."

Tom refrains from rolling his eyes again and flinches as a bird smacks into the window. Getting up, he peers out of it to see it was just dazed; thankfully.

"So are you going to come and check this out?" Mrs. Baldwin asked, sounding concerned.

"I might have to think about it," Tom said, watching as the bird shook off it's shock and flew off. "I haven't done it in a while."

"Oh," Mrs. Baldwin said, sounding disappointed.

"It wouldn't be that hard to get back into though," Tom said, briefly wondering why he was saying such a thing.

He'd told himself that he wouldn't do any more psychic investigating since Silver, but in all honesty, he hated how normal and predictable his life had become. At least when he was doing the investigating things were semi different. It was all the same at the end though, the person ended up being a fraud and Tom was left feeling empty inside. He didn't know why this time would be any different.

"So you'll do it?" Mrs. Baldwin asked, relief clear in her voice.

"Why not?" Tom said. "We can discuss price later when I get there. Where is it?"

Mrs. Baldwin told him an address and Tom wrote it down on a scrap of paper.

"I'll be there in a few hours," he said. "Just hang tight until then."

"Thank you for doing this," Mrs. Baldwin said.

"No problem," Tom replied before hanging up. He wondered what he was getting himself into this time.


End file.
